Acknowledging My Limitations

I've been hearing radio ads for "Senior Helpers," so last week David finally called them. I think he could see that I was losing it. Just the stress of wondering how each morning is going to be--especially Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, when MIL is supposed to go to the adult day care that the VA pays for (God love them), has been making me perpetually angry. Some mornings she gets up and goes without much fuss, and other mornings it's hours of nagging (from me) and procrastinating (from her). Now that my mother is in Assisted Living and doesn't have a drivers license, I have to take her places as well, and the stress of trying to combine these duties and keep to a schedule wears me out. I start stressing the night before, wondering if it's going to work, and wake up already crabby at MIL.

So Senior Helpers is coming on Mondays and Wednesdays, they'll get her up and dressed, DRIVE HER TO THE SENIOR CENTER, and PICK HER UP IN THE AFTERNOON AND BRING HER HOME! We're using some of Betty's money to pay for it, which seems reasonable to me, as this may prevent my psychotic break and keep her alive.